Sweet Dreams
by tempusername
Summary: After an extremely unexpected dream, Myka's terrified and Helena's left bewildered. It's up to Claudia to try and "save" the day. H.G./Myka. Set in a vaguely alternate universe where everyone's on the team and one big happy family, so spoiler-free. First intended as a one-shot, then someone it ended up longer, so: Beware! Weird pacing is inevitable! Complete, for now.
1. Chapter 1: Don't Touch Me

**A/N:** _This is literally the first fiction I've written in several years, so, you know...don't expect too much! It exists mainly to practice 1. characterization and 2. "smutty" writing, which is something I've never taken a stab at. I wasn't going to continue it but suddenly I'd written six pages and then it kept going. It does feel kind of weirdly disjointed in tone because of not planning to continue originally. Maybe someday I'll rewrite Chapter 1.  
_

* * *

"Angle grinder. Ten seconds. Quick."

With a sigh, Myka opened her eyes and lazily pushed off of the desk with one foot, letting the desk chair roll across the room to take her over to the toolbox. "You know, you could just get these things yourself, Helena," she pointed out. "It was closer to you than it was to me."

A loud clattering filled the room as H.G. Wells slid out from beneath the complicated contraption she was repairing. A wicked smile danced across her lips, which Myka noted were as flawlessly ruby red as ever, contrasting against the ash and grease that stained her face. The sleeves of her blue dress shirt had been rolled up to her elbows, making visible the grease marks that continued all down her forearms; her thick mane of black hair was dirty, tangled, and limp with swear; Myka seriously doubted whether that shirt would ever be clean again; and yet H.G.'s eyes shone with delight at her work nevertheless. "Well, Agent Bering, now you're closest—so do be a dear and hand me my angle grinder."

Myka shot her an irritated look, but she knew they were both aware there was no true malevolence to it. "And to think, Pete complains about _me_ being bossy. Hmmph."

Of course, Myka thought, it would be terribly hard to truly be irritated with H.G. when she was smiling like that, even with the sharp command and the gentle mockery of "Agent Bering." Being mad at Helena would be a challenge for Myka, despite the façade she regularly donned when they teased each other—a teasing that dated all the way back to their first meetings and could only have arisen between two people who were so alike. Certainly there had been plenty of opportunities to be mad, to be sure, even furious…and she _had_ been, but…. She twirled a strand of curly hair around her finger, brow furrowing.

"Angle grinder! Myka!"

Myka jerked back into reality. Today was one long struggle to stay awake, and it was only midmorning. She surveyed the collection of tools.

"I see a hammer. A screwdriver. Pliers, maybe? Are these pliers?"

"Ah, would pliers be a new word for an angle grinder? Has that change taken place in the past century? How exciting, if true! How delightful, the way language evolves! If not, however, I simply don't think those shall be of much help, and I eagerly suggest that you step up your pace in finding that for me."

Myka turned to glower at her. "Perhaps you should seek out a career in comedy instead of the Warehouse. That crowd might be more receptive to your—" Myka paused to make a face at Helena, her fingers curving in mock quotation marks. "—jokes, if you can call them that. Maybe you should tell me what I'm supposed to be looking for here." She turned back to the toolbox, but not without muttering, "As if they even had electrical grinders or whatever they are in the 19th century. You've probably only known what this device is for a few days yourself."

Helena's laughter reverberated through the high-ceilinged room as she pushed herself to her feet, stepping over to stand behind Myka. Squeezing her friend's shoulder with one hand, she reached over her to pick up the tool with her other. "True. I looked up how to use it yesterday. I suppose such a thing would never slip by the ever-so intelligent Myka Bering."

"It's true, I'm the most brilliant agent in all of history," Myka joked, spinning in the chair to face H.G., "while you're barely a step above Pete. He's who you should save those awful one-liners for."

Helena groaned and clasped her hand to her heart. "My God, Myka, how could you say such a thing? How could you wound me so? A step above _Pete_?" She smiled again, hesitating only to run her eyes over Myka as was her constant and disconcerting habit, and then turned back to her machinery. "Thank you for my tool, darling. Someday I shall educate you in the ecstatic joy of grinding angles."

"Oh, grinding angles! Is that what the angle grinder is for?"

They both laughed at that, though Myka's laugh slowly faded away as she watched the back and forth sway of Helena's hips as she crossed the room. Lately she was so very easily distracted.

The morning was fading into afternoon swiftly and it had been a long day of handing H.G. tools and parts. Myka was exhausted and she couldn't keep up with Helena's unwaveringly upbeat attitude. She was always like this while she worked, and while Myka loved seeing her friend happy without any hint of sadness or anger, she could only pretend to understand the rapid-fire tech talk for so long before she had to detach. Claudia would be better suited for this job (that is, if sitting and listening to Helena's occasional cursing over a problem or gushing over a success counted as a job) but Artie had her running around doing inventory today. So Myka finally vacated her chair and went to pick up the crate full of tools.

"You'll have to get your own things for a bit," Myka said, setting the box down by Helena's machine. She bent down to peek under it, curious about what exactly the other woman was doing, but all she saw was the top of H.G.'s head and her outline, lithe arms outstretched to work on the underbelly of the apparatus. And, Myka noticed, following the lines of her arms down, the curves of Helena's breasts were also exasperatingly visible. The blue shirt looked about to tear, pulled tight across her chest from the awkward position on her back under the machine.

That was a nice shirt, Myka thought. One of her favorites on Helena; such a rich lovely blue made the complex tones of Helena's eyes sparkle. Somehow it looked fetching even so dirty—was that a rip in the sleeve?—and it would have irritated Myka how beautiful Helena managed to be in these conditions if she hadn't been busy admiring how beautiful Helena managed to be in these conditions. She blinked away the thoughts.

"But I was having such great fun making you fetch them."

Myka sighed and stood upright. "Hold on, let me finish my thought. I'm off to curl up on the couch. It's been an exhausting week after Kansas City. Have fun working on your…ah…mysterious device."

"Mm, yes. I understand. Alright." Helena scooted out, flat on her back, to flash an upside-down smile at Myka. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

Myka woke up slowly and groggily, becoming aware of her environment in small pieces. It took several moments for her to realize a hand was grasping hers.

"Ah! Helena! What are you doing?" Myka gasped, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open. She tried to pull her hand back but Helena had a firm grasp on it.

"I'm so glad you've awoken!" H.G.'s voice was softer than usual and her eyes looked black as pitch. She caressed Myka's hand, tracing gradual circles with her thumb. "You see, I've noticed how you've been looking at me all day, Myka."

Before Myka could open her mouth to voice an objection, H.G. had captured her other hand and begun to speak again. "I've seen the desire in your eyes, and, well…I shan't deprive you of something you want so badly." She pulled Myka's hands together, tugging them up to her lips, and began to leave a smattering of light kisses all over them. "Let me make love to you," she whispered, peering over Myka's fingertips and directing an almost coy look at her friend.

"Well," Myka began, but she was stumped with there to go from there. There was a stirring in her gut that she was all too familiar with, though it had been a while since she had felt it, and it was ever increasing as Helena began to move her lips to Myka's wrists, never breaking eye contact. A veritable horde of butterflies was rioting in her stomach. "Well, I…you know, alright, I think I would enjoy that." She'd hardly meant to respond but the agreement had come out involuntarily.

Helena smiled, showing her teeth. She slid her hands up to grab Myka's shoulders, shoving her back on the couch and pulling herself up to straddle her. "Let the dance begin."

Their lips met in a flurry of sparks. The kiss was hard and full of lust, and when Myka began to struggle to flip H.G. over and switch their positions, Helena only bit down on Myka's lip and grabbed a handful of her hair. Myka gasped, more startled than pained, and she could feel Helena's mouth curl into that same wolfish smile. Myka was momentarily irritated at the fact that H.G. was stronger than her, but the thought was forced out of her head as Helena kissed her again, as fierce as before, this time forcing her tongue into Myka's mouth and further agitating that crowd of butterflies. One hand tightened in the mess of dark curls—and the other went to squeeze Myka's breast just as hard, earning another gasp.

"Myka, darling," H.G. whispered against Myka's jaw, "I'm going to need you to remove that shirt. I don't care where it goes as long as it isn't on you. I'll rip it off of you myself if I must."

The moment Myka began to lift her shirt, Helena's hands moved to tightly grasp her waist. The touch rose as the shirt did, and Myka saw a look of devilish anticipation cross H.G.'s face as the shirt rose over her breasts.

Then the look was replaced with frustration. "Confound it," H.G. swore, "why on Earth…." She began to struggle with Myka's bra, and Myka took this opportunity to reach through Helena's arms, beginning to undo the buttons of her shirt. It was the same lovely red as her lips and Myka almost hated to toss the silk shirt to the ground. But then she got a fuller glimpse of what awaited underneath and all other thoughts fled her mind as she gazed longingly over the milky-white expanse of Helena's bare chest. Covert glances at H.G. clad in button-downs and jackets were not nearly the same as this. She soaked in the sight.

The glimpse didn't last long. Helena had given up on trying to undo Myka's bra after only brief seconds of trying and had instead simply shoved it up onto her chest. "Please," Helena whispered, lifting herself up on her hands to gaze at Myka, "wear something less complicated next time."  
"What, the great H.G. Wells can invent a functional time machine but can't unhook a bra strap? I'd do it myself if you didn't have me pinned down. Besides, I—"

Helena cut her off. "I haven't had to undress a woman in over one hundred years and undergarments did _not_ look like that the last time I was doing such a thing," she snapped. "You try to take off a corset in mere moments and then try to tell me the switch is simple!" After a second, she added, "And I like you pinned down," before scattering kisses along her collarbone.

Myka grinned. This was her favorite H.G., full of witty retorts and sharp jests. Her bright mood from her work earlier must have carried over. "I think a corset is different than undoing a hook."

"Oh, just stop talking." H.G. shifted positions to slide a leg between Myka's and to lower her kisses down to her breasts. At first the touch of her lips was light, almost hesitant, but then her hungry manner returned and she was kissing and nipping at one breast while removing a hand from Myka's hip to take the nipple of her other breast between her fingers.

The banter of before was immediately forgotten. A deep, rich moan escaped Myka's lips, followed by several softer and shallower ones as Helena continued in her work. Delight flooded her entire body. It was Helena's sharp tongue Myka was most used to, always ready with a brilliant idea or a dry comment, but this…this was a very different application of her tongue and one that Myka thought she could grow extremely used to. Her nails dug into H.G.'s hips as another tremor of pleasure coursed through her.

Helena's hand strayed down to undo the button of Myka's pants. "Ah, damn," she groaned against the soft skin of Myka's breast where her mouth still lingered, meeting a new obstacle. Luckily, the belt buckle gave in much easier than the bra strap—some things remain the same despite time's passage—and soon H.G. was shifting positions again, her slender arms reaching to grasp Myka's arms and pin them back on the couch and her head dipping to lay a kiss right at Myka's waistline before moving to trace her lips down her inner thigh, exploring this new patch of skin eagerly.

"Helena," Myka moaned, wrapping her legs around H.G. to force her ever closer. Want overwhelmed her. "Helena, fuck me, fuck me already." With some effort, she jerked her hands free of the tight grip to bury her hands in Helena's dark hair.

"Helena, Helena, Helena!"

* * *

"Myka, Myka, Myka." Helena's lilting voice broke into her consciousness, an undertone of laughter in her voice making Myka aware that something was wrong. She shouldn't be laughing, she should be…

Myka burst into awareness, snapping straight up and off of the couch. Helena was perched on one arm of the couch, amusement and bewilderment both evident on her face.

"What happened?" Myka's eyes were wide with horror. Helena had been wearing red, hadn't she? Now she sat there in a worn blue top, one sleeve rolled up neatly and another falling down, most definitely fastened and not on the floor. Reality crashed into her. "Oh, God. Oh no."

"You repeated my name." Helena's eyes glinted impishly. "Again and again. I see I'm prominent in your unconscious. Fascinating."  
How much had she said aloud? Only seconds ago, she remembered begging H.G. to fuck her. Her eyes bulged even wider at that realization and she gaped for a long second before recovering. "You tell me everything I said right this instant or…or…." She waved a finger as an empty threat.

Helena shrugged. Myka's scowl and demeanor had drained her amusement and left her with a slight frown. "Only my name. Although, I should point out I was working for most of your nap, so I only heard you crying out a few seconds ago."

"Uh-huh. Okay." Myka held her hands up, completely frazzled. She desperately hoped H.G. was telling the truth. The idea of her friend sitting there and listening to Myka's vocal reactions to the dream was a terrifying idea. "I don't want to hear any more. I can't think about it. "

"Why, was it nightmares?" Helena's face softened as she took a second of silence for an answer. "Oh, how dreadful. I'm so sorry for not awakening you." She stood and stepped forward to slip a comforting arm around Myka, but she immediately jerked away.

"Don't touch me!" She seized upon the excuse Helena had inadvertently provided her. "Yes, terrible nightmares. I don't want to speak about them. Please."

Pain and worry flashed across Helena's face before her calm mask returned. It was clear she felt the situation had taken an upsetting turn, though Myka barely registered that over her own distress. She spoke slowly and uncertainly. "Myka, I'm sorry. I hope my name did not came to your lips in a, ah…negative manner. Whatever it was, you know I would never…." Trailing off, Helena sighed and fixed her gaze on the ceiling, hands on her hips. "I would never," she repeated.

"No, no! It wasn't like that." The instantaneous reassurance was panicked and almost a yell. H.G. frowned, still not looking away from the rafters. Exhaling sharply, Myka pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going very poorly. She couldn't handle this situation right now. "I'm sorry, it was…a mission. You're my friend and I was in trouble, so I was calling you for help."

Helena looked back at Myka, relief flooding her face. "I see."

Myka nodded wearily, pushing a hand through her hair. She and Helena both stared at a point right above the other's shoulder and neither spoke. Finally Helena moved forward and took the other woman's hands in hers. This time Myka didn't reflexively pull away. "Myka, I don't want to see you upset again. If you're worried about more nightmares, perhaps you could sleep in my room tonight."

"Unbelievable! Stop! I just, H.G., I just can't! I'm leaving!" She ripped her hands out of Helena's hold, throwing her hands in the air. "I can't deal with this!" Her angry footsteps echoed through the room as she marched off towards the door.

This time the pained confusion on Helena's face didn't vanish after a short second. Her momentary struggle to think of what she could have done to upset Myka was fruitless. There was nothing she could remember. She sighed, barely audible but ragged, and fell back into a seat on the couch. Her mind raced as she considered the best ways to make up for whatever her mysterious offense had been.

* * *

Barreling around the corner, Myka nearly smashed into Claudia going in the other direction. She opened her mouth to apologize but a slight squeak and an incline of her head was all she could manage.

"Whoa! Hey, Myka, slow down!" Claudia held up her hands. "What's up? Are you okay?" She grinned, gesturing towards the door. "Running from H.G.? What, some kind of teeny little lover's quarrel?"

"A what? No! Get out! No. No. I'm not talking to any of you for, for, for a week!" Myka's neck was tight with anger and her eyes were wild. Her furious panic had yet to relent and Claudia's jokes were the last thing she wanted to hear.

"Okay, okay, I'm not talking! Go!" Claudia stepped around Myka, letting her walk swiftly away. She glanced over her shoulder and noted Myka's hunched shoulders and balled fists. "Yikes," she muttered. Someone was cranky.

As she stood there, considering possible sources for Myka's terrible mood, Artie rounded the corner. He stuck a threatening finger in her face, thundering, "I don't know what you said to her, but you are going to fix it! I will not have my agents running around squabbling like children!"

"Oh my God, Artie! I didn't do anything! I think it was H.G.! What would I have done?" Claudia stared disbelievingly at him.

"I won't hear excuses! Just fix it!" He stormed past, shooting her a dark scowl to show he would brook no objections, leaving Claudia in the hall alone again.

She glowered after him. She knew exactly what would happen from here. Now Artie would go in there and snap at H.G. and she'd snap right back, and Pete would be sulky as soon as he saw Myka was mad and she'd be mad at him for sulking, and it would snowball until everyone was at each other's throats. It wouldn't be a fun evening. Her voice rang loud in the empty corridor:

"Great, now Artie's got his panties in a bunch too, and it's up to Claudia Donovan, Warehouse Therapist to deal with everyone. I am the only adult here. The only adult!"


	2. Chapter 2: Fhit, Elegna

**A/N:** _I thought, "I'll put together a few hundred words quickly just to close it out," but then suddenly I was five pages in and now it probably needs a third chapter. This one got away from me. It's still sort of practice fic since I'm so rusty __(although in this chapter, no practicing writing sexual scenes for the first time and failing horribly—you're welcome)__, plus I threw it together really swiftly and did my proofreading at 1:30 a.m., so...this ain't gonna be brilliant. Thanks for all the reviews and etc. so far! Oh, and a title change. The original was a little too angsty.  
_

* * *

Claudia's mind was racing as she entered the bed and breakfast. If H.G. and Myka were arguing, something must be really wrong; Artie had irritably tasked her with solving the problem, but Claudia was at a loss as to what it could be or where to begin. The two women were close friends and their only arguments never lasted more than a few minutes before one or the other was running back with a sincere apology. Claudia had no idea what could have made Myka so furious.

"Hey, Leena!" Claudia dropped into a chair in the kitchen, kicking her legs up on the table. "Jinksy! Pete!" If she was going to deal with this, she needed backup.

Leena appeared first, shooting her a disapproving frown. "Feet down."

As Claudia sighed exaggeratedly and obeyed, removing her feet from the table and leaving a scattering of red dirt behind, Leena settled into the chair across from her. "What's going on in the Warehouse, Claudia? Myka came through and stormed upstairs. I haven't seen her that upset since she first arrived. What happened?"

"That is a fantastic question. And you get the privilege of helping me find the answer!" Claudia grinned. "Up for it?"

Before Leena could answer, Steve walked in. "Finally," Claudia declared. She pointed at the chair next to her. "Cop a squat, Jinksy—you're officially part of the Donovan Problem Solvers. The name is a work in progress." She tapped her fingers on the table, antsy. "Where's Pete? Pete!"

He looked at Leena, who shrugged in reply. "Whatever you say, Claude. I haven't seen Pete in a while. He said he had to go deal with an 'ice cream emergency' and drove off."

Claudia groaned and leaned back in her chair. "Peeeete!" Not only was he gone when she needed him, but he hadn't invited her to go on the emergency ice cream run. Fate was cruel. "Okay, fine. I guess you two will have to do."

Ignoring Leena and Steve's simultaneous dry "gee, thanks," she continued: "Artie put me in charge of figuring out what in the world is wrong with Myka, and as the formal head of this investigation, I'm appointing you two as my minions."

Once more Steve looked at Leena and once more she shrugged, both of them looking amused this time. He'd learned that arguing with Claudia was almost always in vain, especially when she was in an excitable mood like this. "Okay," he acquiesced, "tell us what to do."

* * *

Sprawled horizontally across her bed, feet sticking out over the edge and her face pressed into the mattress, Myka considered her next step. She wasn't angry, per se…not at anyone but herself. Her reaction earlier had been over the top and she knew it. Fear had made her lash out and Helena and Claudia, two of her closest friends in the world, had been the victims. That was the problem with being so observant, she thought. She could distinctly recall the specific look of hurt on Helena's face when she'd stormed out on her.

"Fhit," Myka mumbled. "Elegna." She rolled over, lifting her face from being squashed against the bed, and softly repeated herself. "Shit, shit, _shit_. Helena." The more she thought about this situation, the worse it seemed.

As a young child, eagerly reading _The Time Machine_ and _The War of the Worlds _and everything else she could get her hands on, Myka had never expected to someday have an erotic dream about H.G. Wells. But of course, she'd also never expected H.G. Wells to be a gorgeous, ingenious woman, or her dear friend and coworker. Her horror was equally divided between "my God, I have a crush on the Father of Science Fiction" and "my God, I have a crush on a woman." The former appalled her and the latter terrified her. She'd almost managed to stop thinking of Helena as _the_ H.G. Wells, the famous author H.G. Wells, the born-in-the-1800s H.G. Wells, but now that knowledge gnawed at her mind again.

It wasn't anything new, this unusual fondness for H.G. It was only that Myka had pushed it away before. Ever since she'd met Helena, she'd found herself often noting the other woman's effortless beauty. It had been easy to write off as jealousy or simple admiration until today. A dream that culminated in cries of "Helena, fuck me!" was much harder to ignore. Myka's chest ached thinking about it.

On top of the sudden awareness of dormant romantic feelings, never before had she felt this way for another woman. It scared her. Her heart was betraying her. Her heart was betraying Sam. Hell, it felt like a betrayal of every man she'd ever given a second glance to. She couldn't be a lesbian! But…what did this mean, then? Logically, she knew she was being foolish in her focus on this, but it didn't stop the burning of her eyes or the pounding of her head. She was hard to shake, typically sharp and analytical no matter the situation, but all of this at once was more than she could handle.

A sigh escaped through parted lips. Myka Bering was good at many, many things, but dealing with this flow of emotions was out of her league.

A knock at the door made her jump. "No!" she cried instinctively, hopping off the bed, but it was too late. Claudia opened the door and stuck her head in.

"Wow, you look insane."

Myka glanced it the mirror and cringed. Her hair was wild, her blouse was heavily wrinkled, and her nose and eyes were bright red from her fight with tears. "Thanks, Claude, very sweet of you. Listen, I'm sorry for snapping earlier, but I want to be alone now."

Smiling graciously, Claudia held her hands up. "Of course. Say no more." She stepped back and shut the door.

Myka eyed the door suspiciously for a moment longer. Hushed whispers came from beyond but she couldn't tell what was being said, or even who was saying what. They must just be worried about her for hiding up in her room, she decided. She frowned absently and headed back to her bed.

The door swung open again, once more startling her, and Leena and Steve burst through. They looked grimly determined as they each grabbed one of Myka's arms despite her protests and exclamations of "let me go!" and "don't touch me!" and began to half-guide, half-drag her out of the room. "Sorry, Myka, I've got my orders," Steve told her. He tried and failed to hide his grin at her disbelieving face.

* * *

"Leena, I cannot believe that you would go along with this!" Myka had recovered from her stunned silence once they'd gotten to the living room and was absolutely seething now. "Just because Claudia gets an idea in her head doesn't mean you have to follow it."

With a raised finger, Leena cut Myka off. "Hold on. We're your friends. Don't lash out because you're upset about something else." She stared intently at Myka, trying to figure out what that something else was.

Myka gaped at her. "Don't lash out? You two yanked me out of my bedroom! With no explanation!" Steve shrugged, Leena smiled, and Myka crumbled. "…Okay. Get whatever you have to say over with. But I don't need to talk to anyone about anything, so—"

"Lie."

"—I don't know what you're bothering." She finished her sentence slowly, directing an equally drawn-out scowl at Steve. He widened his eyes innocently but a smile tugged at his lips.

"Let us know why you're upset. We want to help you, Myka. If you need us to do anything, ask."

She started to answer Leena's question with something noncommittal and snappy, but then a feeling of dread settled over her. She raised herself from the position on the couch they'd pushed her down onto. "Where…where exactly did Claudia go?" She was almost positive she knew the answer, but she hoped her guess was wrong. Just when she didn't think this confrontation could get any worse.

The answer came immediately, far more cheerful than Myka could stand. "Right here!"

Myka looked over her shoulder just in time to see Claudia come in the room. Her heart leapt into her throat and then plummeted into the pit of her stomach as she saw Helena trail in behind Claudia. Her emotions covered the whole spectrum. Helena had cleaned up from her work earlier, Myka noticed; she looked just as beautiful as ever. Myka's head pounded as she looked between Helena and Claudia. Helena looked worried, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as if words were fighting to escape. Claudia looked smug and unrepentant.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

"Oh, yes," Claudia said.

* * *

Claudia guided H.G. to the empty arm chair and then plopped down between Steve and Leena. "All set! Okay, Jinksy, here we go. Leena, you got her here, now you're free to go keep Artie occupied in the Warehouse"

Myka looked trapped and H.G. looked heartbroken. Covert glances were exchanged between them, alternating between longing gazing and trying hard to look uninterested, though eye contact wasn't made. Claudia rested her chin in her hands as she watched them. People were hard to deal with.

"Alright," Claudia began, "welcome to my office, kids. I'm here to help. Now tell me, how does being here make you _feel_?"

"Claudia." Myka's voice was terse but not completely serious. "Watch it."

H.G. smiled ever so slightly before covering her mouth with a hand, but Claudia noticed the smile and the well of warmth behind it. A new series of speculations ran through her head. If H.G. wasn't mad at Myka, then why had Myka stormed off so angrily? It didn't compute. She dropped her playful tone and adopted a blunt one. "Why are you mad at H.G.?"

All eyes went to Myka; she tried to shrink back into the couch. "I'm not."

Jinks and Claudia exchanged a quick look, and then Claudia continued. "Who are you mad at?"

Myka bit her lower lip and squirmed in her seat. She ran a hand through her mane of curls as she considered her answer. "No one."

Even Claudia could tell there was dishonesty in that, but she still deferred to Steve with another look. "Lie," he confirmed.

"God! Steve! Do you really have to be here for this? Yes, okay, I'm mad! I'm mad at all of you for making me be here right now when I don't want to be."

"…and?" Steve pressed. Claudia smiled with relief at Myka's glare, pleased that Jinks was earning the lion's share of Myka's ire in her place. Sometimes it was inconvenient having the Human Lie Detector as a best friend, but it was nice to have indignation directed away from her.

"And myself," Myka said. She looked exhausted and for a second Claudia regretted creating this spectacle. But she had to get to the bottom of it one way or another, she reasoned, and it was worth Myka's frustration with her.

"Jinksy?"

"Not a lie."

"Okay. Why yourself?"

Myka hesitated, looking at Steve. "Listen, Steve, you are a great guy. You really are. I'm glad I know you. So keep that in mind when I say that I cannot stand you right now and refuse to do this while you're here."

After her long minutes of silent observance, H.G. finally broke in. "Why? Do you plan on lying to me? Be frank." Accusatory hurt filled her eyes and Claudia turned to mouth "yikes" to Jinks as Myka and H.G. faced off.

"Well," Myka began, and then she sighed. "Well, not you in particular. A nice general lie."

"Steve will stay, since apparently you cannot be bothered to be honest. I don't see what you could have to hide from me."

Claudia stepped in before either could speak again. "Come on, we're getting this over with, remember? Everyone's going to be super psyched to be around each other by the time Artie's back! Stop with the dramatic staring and sighing!"

A blush tinted Myka's cheeks. H.G. leaned forward in her chair, focusing her piercing gaze on Myka now instead of avoiding looking at her. "Yes, by all means, Claudia, keep going."

"Why did you come sprinting past me all panicky in the hall?" Claudia asked.

"To get to Leena's quickly."

"Oh, come on," grumbled Steve. "Don't make me be the bad guy here."  
"What?" Myka demanded. "I _was_ trying to get to Leena's quickly!"

H.G. lifted a hand to silence Claudia before she could speak. "Myka, why were you suddenly angry with me?"

"I had a headache."

"That is not a reason!" Emotion momentarily twisted H.G.'s face, while Claudia and Steve exchanged a panicked look as control slipped out of their hands. "That is not an acceptable reason for your actions! You were cruel to Claudia and cruel to me and you offered no explanation!"

Now it was Myka who looked hurt. Her mouth opened and closed twice but she couldn't manage anything. Finally: "I'm sorry, Helena, but I don't think I can explain."

"Not a lie! Very sorry!" Jinks declared, but Claudia elbowed him and hissed "Not helpful right now." She tried to wrest back control of the situation. "Okay, H.G., rein it in. Let me be in charge here. Senior agent! Senior agent!"

H.G. lifted a single brow. "I'm over one hundred years older than you, you realize?"

"Senior citizen doesn't mean senior agent. I've been at Warehouse 13 longer than you. You and Jinksy are my subordinates here."

"Nonsense. I worked at Warehouse 12, and, as you may be aware, 12 is a lower number than 13.

"Nope. Doesn't count. Shush. You're interrupting my process." Claudia closed her eyes and placed her fingertips on her temple. "I need utter silence before I can continue with my problem solving."

Instinctively, with the simple grace of an action repeated countless times, Myka and Helena turned to smile at each other, to share in their private amusement. Yet it barely lasted before Myka broke the glance to frown at the floor again. Her conflict was written across her face, though not clearly, and Helena gazed at her as if hoping to unravel the riddle.

Claudia spoke up after yet another strained silence had dragged on for several seconds. "Can we get back on track? I can't believe I'm the mature one here. Crazy. Okay, just tell us what happened. For realsies."

"'Realsies'? Really"

"Hey, don't sass your senior agent, Jinks. C'mon, Myka."

"I didn't feel well." She shrugged helplessly. "That's true."  
"Only partially." He frowned.

"I, ah—I was upset thinking about the Kansas City mission."

"Lie."

"There are some health issues with my mother that I've been worried about."

"Lie."

"Pete the ferret is missing."

"Lie."

They shot back and forth for several more rounds, Myka relentless in her attempts to find something, _anything_ that would slip by Steve and Steve relentless in his attempts to keep anything from getting by him. Myka's excuses grew more absurd and his declarations of "Lie" grew quicker. Claudia's amused gaze shot between them as if she was watching the world's most hilarious game of ping pong.

Finally Myka gave in. She threw her hands up in the air, standing abruptly. The exasperation on her face had evolved into anger—or was it fear? panic? something else? "Fine! If you want to know so badly, then you can know!" A deep breath, then the shout, blunt: "I had a dream where Helena and I had sex!"

"L…ie?" Steve's brow furrowed as he stared at her, thrown off guard. "Wait…"

Claudia cringed. The older women were like her sisters, and that was definitely not a context in which she wanted to consider her sisters. "Gross. Geez, Myka, you're not even trying with these any more! Give it up already."

"No, wait." Steve grabbed Claudia's arm the second that comprehension hit him. "That one wasn't a lie."

* * *

The sound of a pin dropping in the room would have been deafening.


	3. Chapter 3: In Jeopardy

Finally the silence was broken by a nervous laugh. Claudia glanced between Myka and Steve, disbelief clear on her face. It was rare that Claudia Donovan found herself speechless, but it wasn't the first time today things had taken an unexpected turn.

"C'mon, Jinksy." She nudged him, with another strained laugh. The tension in the room, especially on the other side where Myka stared at H.G.'s feet and H.G. stared out the window, was palpable. Claudia hated tension. "No way."

He looked serious, even for Steve. "Is that Artie? I hear Artie. It sounds urgent. Let's go." Steve grabbed Claudia's arm and pulled her up. "You've done enough meddling today, Claud. Let's _go_!"

"I don't hear Artie, and besides, you've done just as much meddling," she objected, but she let him rush her to the door. She turned and shot a thin but encouraging smile at Myka, wiggling her fingers in farewell. "Good luck," she mouthed. Myka stared at her, looking dismayed at being abandoned with a still-silent H.G.

Then Steve whisked Claudia out of the room all of the way and slammed the door. They both leaned against the wall, drawing deep breaths and exchanging an incredulous look.

"Did she really—"

"Yeah."

"No lie?"

"Definitely no lie."

"Wow," Claudia exhaled. She considered that for a moment. Her initial reaction had been shock. The confession had been the last thing she'd anticipated, and "TMI!" had instantly been her prevailing thought. For a few moments, it had felt as absurd as if Steve had proudly declared romantic feelings for Pete. Myka and H.G.? But, the more she thought about it…

"Dude," she said, looking to Steve as a grin blossomed on her face. "Dude! This is—this is—"

He shook his head, reading her face. "Tell me about it."

"Everything makes so much sense now! Oh, man! I can't believe I didn't figure this out before, I would have been all over getting to play matchmaker. I missed out. Aren't you supposed to have, like, gaydar? You've failed me, Jinksy." He opened his mouth to retort, but she kept on going. "This is so rad. I want to go back in! Or listen at the door."

"Claud. Calm down."

She sighed. "Okay, king of all partypoopers. But you've gotta admit this rules."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Claudia's sheer excitement was contagious as always. He inclined his head, allowing himself to be caught up in it. "It rules a little bit." It was true that the news was less surprising the more he considered it—he remembered his night in the bar with Myka with a sudden burst of understanding—and he enjoyed seeing Claudia so pleased about the situation. Seeing where things went from here would be interesting.

Claudia whooped and threw her fists into the air triumphantly, strutting down the hall and towards the main door. "Come on, let's go find Pete and make him buy us celebratory ice cream!"

Steve followed, though without the shout and the strut. "Okay, one: Pete already went to go get ice cream earlier, plus we can't tell him anything without their permission. And two: we don't know yet how H.G. will react to all of that."

His comments were met with a derisive snort. "Don't you know either of them at all? One: you're crazy if you think Pete would object to eating ice cream twice in one day. And two: you're crazy if you don't know exactly what H.G.'s reaction will be."

* * *

The silence resumed with Claudia and Steve gone. Though little time truly passed, to Myka it was endless. She squirmed in her seat, eyes trained resolutely on her hands as she rubbed them together. A peek up revealed that Helena still stood motionless. This day had gone from mundane to far beyond stressful quicker than seemed possible; she would have welcomed the monotony of fetching tools for Helena if only to be able to look at her friend again without a deep pain filling her chest.

As if on cue, Helena turned around the instant she started to avert her eyes. "Well, then," she began, steepling her fingers beneath her chin, but Myka cut her off with an abrupt shake of her head.

"Let me speak. H.G.," Myka said, forcing out the brief speech she'd put together in the long minutes of silence, "I'm so sorry. I know you must be very angry."

Helena lifted a single brow, her face otherwise carved in stone. The faintest glimmer of amusement danced in her dark eyes, but Myka was too focused on a point right about Helena's shoulder to notice it.

Myka swallowed and continued: "You must feel very violated and upset. I understand. I know this creates a deep rift between us and I only hope it won't be permanent. I won't let my feelings create any further problems in our work relationship or our personal one. I trust that this can stay between you and me." She sighed. "And Steve and Claudia, I guess."

"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves. A dream can mean many things. Perhaps your mind placed me there, when it was truly someone else you wished for. No feelings involved." The smile that had brightened her eyes since Myka began speaking now reached her lips, more wry than truly amused. "Perhaps Pete?"

"No! God! _Pete_?" Myka glared at her, and they both laughed. It was a brief moment, but it was enough to soften both Myka's torn countenance and Helena's tight smile, taking them back to the easy chatter of the morning. "No, it was…it was definitely you," Myka admitted, quiet. She felt the built-up guilt and anxiety start to drain from her as soon as the confession left her lips. "It was a very straightforward reflection of my desires. I'm sorry." She searched Helena's face for her reaction.

"Sorry, but not sorry enough to take the excuse I offered," H.G. observed. She sat down on the couch beside Myka, taking her hands in both of hers. Myka flinched but H.G. held fast.

"Would you have rather I lied?" Myka couldn't bring herself to look at H.G. Instead she looked down at their entangled hands. Helena absently stroked her wrists with her thumbs and Myka tried to ignore the warmth it sent through her.

"Are you mad? Why would I want that? Myka, I am already upset over this, this…this shame you've placed on yourself." A frown creased Helena's forehead. "You are not yourself today."

"Well, you may have noticed that it's been a stressful day," she pointed out, but Helena was shaking her head before Myka even completed her sentence.

She clearly had little regard for that view, her nose scrunching with distaste. "Nonsense. Only because you chose for it to be. If you hadn't run off so childishly, we could be doing something much more productive right now."

"H.G., I discovered latent romantic and sexual feelings out of absolutely nowhere for one of my dearest friends, who happens to be a woman." H.G. rolled her eyes at that; Myka ignored it. "A friendship that's extremely important to me is in jeopardy, and at the same time, my entire identity is suddenly up in the air!"

Another eye roll, this time accompanied by a terse, exasperated sigh. "Your entire identity is based on who appears in your dreams? Honestly, Myka, that is far more foolish than anything I would ever expect to hear from you. What has gotten into you today? I've never seen you so tightly wound." She sniffed, muttering, "And 'in jeopardy,' as _if_."

The admonishment stung. "You should have known me a few years ago," she said, as close to a jest as she could muster. "Talk about tightly wound."

There was no response at first. "How I wish I had known you years ago," Helena sighed finally, her voice barely a whisper, her face clouded. She lifted a hand towards Myka's cheek but lowered it to take Myka's again before making contact; Myka shivered. Then a smile dispelled the darkness from her face. "Yet we know each other now, and we must deal with this in the present. So please, try to explain to me the most bewildering part of this whole situation. How did you expect me to react? Why did you dash off and let me think I had committed some terrible error?"

"That is a fantastic question." Helena still had a gentle grip on her hands, and deprived even of the tiny reassurance of fidgeting, Myka instead bit her lip and glanced around the room, as if looking for an answer in the ashes of the fireplace or on the bookshelf. "Um. I care about you a lot, and I think I have since we first met."

"Since I held a gun to your partner's head, outwitted you, and confounded the plans of the Warehouse?" H.G. inquired, wide-eyed with mock curiosity.

"Maybe not since we _first_ met." They shared a small smile. "Maybe since you showed up when Claudia and I were investigating the wrestling time."  
"You were furious to see me. I was the villain du jour for Artie and the Warehouse," came the second objection

"Let me finish!" Myka glared at her. "I was furious because you were disrupting my plans, not because I thought you were so evil. I wasn't entirely sure what I thought about you yet. By the end of the day, after you saved Claudia, I was convinced you weren't bad."

"Of course you would be more concerned about interference with your plans than with a heartless, scheming mastermind. I was bad, if you remember." She smiled, but it didn't fill her face.

"Of course you would call yourself a mastermind even when you're trying to be self-deprecating."

"I _am_ a mastermind," she said, and they both smiled, Helena's genuine this time.

"Anyway," Myka continued, shifting from grin to scowl, "I'm trying to answer your question, if you would stop interrupting me, and then we never have to discuss this again." Helena sighed out her acquiescence and Myka resumed uninterrupted. "Anyway, so I think looking back, that was when—" She faltered before pouring the rest out in a barely-audible rush. "That was when I first loved you. Only I didn't know it. It grew and grew and I thought you were just a dear friend who sometimes gave me butterflies when she smiled at me and I convinced myself that was okay, and normal, but that wasn't what it was, or what it is. I love you deeper than friendship and deeper than a silly dream, and it's so much part of me, so deep in my core, that I didn't realize it because it felt like the way things _should_ be. The way things had to be. It wasn't until I woke up that I realized there was a different component to it."

Helena released Myka's hands from hers, resting her chin in them as she listened. Myka could tell the other woman was struggling to remain silent; she dreaded what H.G. might say when she finally did speak.

"H.G., I—I love you, Helena, I love you, and I wish I could apologize for that, but I can't. It scared the hell out of me to realize it and I ran because if I'd stayed around you for an instant longer, I would have thrown myself at you, and you would have rejected me." She dropped her head into her now-freed hands, palms on her temples. "But then Claudia stepped in. So reject me here instead, and maybe the wound won't be as deep as it might have been at first."

The words lingered between them and then faded into silence. Helena's face was carefully composed in consideration. Myka's fear was clear on hers.

"Myka Bering," Helena said, finally, stretching each syllable, repeating Myka's name more slowly than seemed possible until the air seemed to hum with the words. "Myka Bering, _the_ Myka Bering, renowned for her eye for detail? Are you positive that's who sits by me? You absurd and foolish and darling woman."

She could only shake her head, bewildered. "What?"

"You astound me, you really do." Laughter lined her voice; Myka felt left out of a mysterious joke.

"What is it?"

"Unbelievable. You fret about me rejecting you, when I'm the one who has been desperately trying to charm you for as long as I can remember. Myka, I've been smitten for months." By that point, Helena was positively beaming. She clapped her hands together. "Isn't that the funniest thing you have ever heard?"

In response, Myka could only manage a faint choking noise.

"I didn't know what to expect, honestly, but of all the reasons it could have been—this is absolutely the most amusing. I can't believe you spent the whole day worked up over this when I thought my feelings for you couldn't be any more obvious."

The dam burst. "You let me suffer and go through all of that when you could have just come clean? I can't believe you!" But the angry words were immediately followed by a shaky laugh, and Myka couldn't lower her eyes from H.G.'s for an instant.

"I had to make sure your feelings were genuine," Helena insisted, and she reached out to once more grab Myka's hands. "For a heartbeat, I thought perhaps you'd finally been put off by my ceaseless flirtations and you were furious with me. It was when I went to embrace you that you ran off, after all. My heart was broken all day long. So, when there was a glimmer of light…." She shrugged, and Myka understood. The feeling of hesitant hope was unbearably, crushingly painful, more so than no hope at all.

Myka looked down at their hands, as earlier. This time she gave Helena's a firm squeeze and smiled. "You know what Pete would say here, right?" In her best Pete voice, which was an even worse impression than any of his, she declared, "What we have here is a failure to communicate."

"I'm afraid I don't get it," H.G. said.

"I have no idea where that's from. A movie, I guess," Myka admitted. "But Pete says it all the time."

They fell silent again, a comfortable silence instead of a strained one. It was a lovely quiet. Myka could hear Helena breathing—could hear the rustle of her shirt as she stretched—could hear the muted murmur of skin against skin as they shifted their entwined hands. They sat sideways and cross-legged on the couch, across from each other, simply soaking in each other's presence. Nothing had ever been as comforting as those long seconds of silence.

Myka started to speak, hesitated until Helena met her eye, and then finally posed the last question that gnawed at her: "What…what exactly just happened?"

"I believe we 'talked it out.'"

That earned an amused snort. "I feel like I'm 15 years old. We had an awkward talk about feelings and now we're just sitting here holding hands. Hel_lo_, high school."

"Should I ask you to go steady with me? Offer to carry all your books to class for you?" Helena lifted Myka's hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I admit that it's been a while since I've tried to do this. Normally I would have swept you off to have my way with you as soon as I met you."

"Charming," Myka said.

Helena ignored or missed her wry tone. "Yes, you would have been charmed. I suppose today has been significantly less charming. I would prefer to put it all behind us." Her lips returned to Myka's hands, and when she peered up, the light in her eyes was replaced with something unfamiliar to Myka.

Myka's mouth was dry. The air in the room had changed in an instant and she felt suddenly unprepared. It was one thing to admit she loved Helena, and that had been hard enough by itself. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind but she couldn't focus enough to pin down any one question. "You can if you want," she said, cautious, "only, in that case, I'd like to know where we're planning on going from here. Whether we're to stay friends, or something else, or—"

Disentangling their hands only to settle hers on Myka's thighs, Helena leaned in and settled a kiss on her lips. "Well, not to be too much of a literalist, but first we're going to go help prepare dinner," she said, kissing her again, "because it's getting late, and I'm ravenous." She kissed her a third time. "And then after that, we're going to my room," she continued, in between kisses, "because I'm _ravenous_. And then you can see for yourself what I want to be to you."

For half a second, Myka wanted to tease her for the terrible lines, but suddenly her head was spinning and forming a coherent sentence was beyond her. "Mm," she objected, "reverse that," and then she stopped trying to speak as Helena proceeded to kiss her worry and uncertainty into oblivion.

She still wasn't entirely sure _what_ had unfolded, but she liked how it had.

* * *

Dinner time arrived with great haste. After Leena had been sent off from the living room confrontation and instructed to keep Artie occupied, she'd instead headed to the kitchen to prepare a hearty meal. She'd trusted that Artie would do just fine keeping himself busy in the Warehouse, and he had—some days it seemed like it would take a crane to drag him out of what he happened to be working on. She found her kitchen pursuits to be far more worthwhile. The meal was simple, but a regular hit at their table. Roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and biscuits all made an appearance, and a cake she'd prepared that morning sat in the refrigerator. The cooking had been a welcome relief from all the action at the B&B (forcing upset people from their rooms was not a task Leena enjoyed, and she regretted being talked into it), and when she'd informed Steve, Claudia, and Pete—the first three to arrive at the table—that it was in honor of a job well done in Kansas City, they'd all beamed and she felt the warm glow of satisfaction settle over her. Things felt normal.

And then Artie arrived, a few minutes behind everyone else. He lowered himself into his chair, crossed his arms, and pinned Claudia with his deepest frown. "Did you apologize to Myka for whatever it was you did?"

Distracted in taking a massive bite of pot roast, Pete looked up. "Huh?" He swallowed. "What happened?"

"It wasn't my fault," Claudia insisted in vain, drawing a snort from Artie. "Yeah, all issues totally resolved, though!"

He peered down his nose at her, dissatisfied with that declaration. "Then where is she? And where's H.G.?"

"What issues are resolved?" Pete tried again. Claudia had tried to tell him about the situation earlier over ice cream, but Steve had managed to convince her to stay quiet about the issue, leaving Pete in the dark.

Before Claudia could come up with an answer, Steve shot her a look and spoke up. "She thinks we solved the issues, Artie. We don't know yet."

Claudia groaned and tried to avoid making eye contact with Artie, whose scowl had increased. "What exactly was the situation?" he demanded.

The two witnesses exchanged panicked glances, aware that they were completely unprepared to try to tactfully distract Artie from the issue. Claudia leapt out of her chair. "Berightback! Gottagotothebathroom!" Steve erupted into a fit of coughing. Bewildered looks were exchanged among the other three.

Claudia dashed across the room, turned a sharp corner at the doorway, and found herself suddenly nose to nose with H.G.

"Oh," Claudia gasped, taking a step back from the other woman. "H.G. Hi. And Myka. Double hi." Myka stood a step behind Helena.

"Are you okay, Claud?" Myka asked. "We were just coming down for dinner. What's going on in there?"

Claudia recovered quickly, color returning to her face after the surprise. "Yes! I'm okay. Thank God you two are here! Artie's ready to strangle someone in there and it's not going to be me."

"Exciting," Helena said, her eyebrows shooting up. "A strangling to cap off the day. In we go, then."

Myka stepped through the door first, Helena following a step behind her with gentle fingers pressed against the small of her back. Claudia peeked around them.

Pete waved as soon as they appeared, grinning to show a mouth full of food. "Mykes! Finally! You gotta explain what's going on with you and Claudia because no one's telling me anything."

"With Claudia?" Myka frowned, moving across to room to slip into her seat. Helena took the last empty one across from her. "Nothing's going on with her. Where did that come from?"

Artie scratched his head. "I may have accused Claudia of being the reason for your poor mood. I could have been wrong."

"Yeah, well, Claudia might not have been on my good side all day, but we're absolutely fine." Myka chuckled. "I just had a stressful morning. I'm okay now."

"That's not gonna cut it," Pete objected, too curious to let it pass, and Leena nodded in agreement.

Finally Claudia couldn't resist any more. Clearly the result hadn't been terrible, but what had it _been_? The words burst out of her lips: "What happened with you and H.G. after the whole 'I have a thing for H.G.' part when Jinksy and I left?"

Pete and Steve simultaneously began to choke on their food, coughing and clapping their chests, albeit for different reasons; Artie looked confused; and Leena murmured "Of _course_," delight filling her face.

Myka's jaw dropped. "Unbelievable! Claud!" A laugh caught her attention and her gaze whipped around to Helena, who covered her mouth and tried to look apologetic.

That was all it took to soften Myka again. A look around the table warmed her heart further. This was her _family_ and she was no longer the woman she had been when she'd been before them, so why should she act like that woman any longer? She'd faltered earlier, out of fear, when she'd been alone and scared. But here, surrounded by pleased faces, there was no room for fear. Pete was grinning at her and she smiled back, hesitantly; he gave her a thumbs-up. A deep breath. Another.

She sighed and held her hands up in defeat. "Okay. Yes. Helena and I are…ah…"

"Looking into new ways to deepen our friendship," Helena suggested.

"Exactly." Myka nodded. "One way to put it."

Claudia elbowed Steve. "I told you," she hissed, and he punched her shoulder. A very pleased-looking Leena got up from her seat and caught Myka in an embrace, while Pete focused his attention on H.G.

"Can you get some of this on video?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "Agent Lattimer, we're just starting to get along. Don't muck up your chances."

Pete looked dejected, but then brightened up, and went to copy Leena and wrap Myka in a bear hug. "I don't know what happened today, Mykes, but I'm glad everything worked out," he said, almost lifting her off the floor with his hug. "And it sounds like you scored a hot Brit, so I think you're my idol now."

"Thank you," she sighed into his shoulder. His gentle ribbing served as another reminder of how absurd her earlier worries had been.

Artie remained in his seat as everyone else cycled through hugs, looking uncomfortable. He cleared his throat until they began to turn back to him. "This isn't going to affect anyone's work, is it?"

"I'll be able to focus on things other than seeing how many times I can brush against Myka without her complaining."

"I'll be able to think more clearly without staring at Helena the entire time and wondering when she'll notice."

The two spoke almost in sync. Myka bit her lip, trying to hide her joy. "Artie, I wasn't myself today. I felt lost and I was terrified. I felt the same overwhelming, irrational fear I felt when I left. And it was because I thought Helena and I would never get that chance to…um, deepen our friendship. I could have broken at any time, and if that had happened on a mission, I would have blown it. Now that worry's gone. Things are better off."

With a grumble, Artie stood up. "My dinner is cold," he said, and Claudia squirmed nervously, looking between Artie and Myka. Artie continued: "So at least it was for a very good reason." He grabbed Myka's hand; she turned it into a full hug. "I'm happy when any of you are happy," he whispered, gruff façade slipping, though the words reached no one's ears but Myka's.

Myka squeezed him tightly and stepped back. Her friends stood in a group, all caught up in quiet conversation. Helena broke off, caught her eye, and smiled, a secret glimpse unnoticed by the others. It was tender, no different than any other smile they'd shared over the months, but Myka's heart leapt at the new discovery of what that meant.

"Never happier," she promised him. "Not for a single second."

* * *

**A/N:** _I'm sorry this update took twice as long as the last! Honestly, my muse for this story is kind of kaputt - I never wanted to write more than a chapter, if you recall - and I think that's probably clear in this chapter. It's the weakest part yet. The whole thing probably needed to be twice as long for everything to flow well but it was too late by Chapter 3. But, I have big plans ahead of me for other stories! So..stay tuned for better things. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for reading! I hope you got some enjoyment out of this! (Edit: okay, so a guest review was left that makes me want to rewrite this! dang! I missed a really good chance for some fun interaction between them! I may do a oneshot later that sort of flashes back to what happened upstairs. thank you, anonymous reviewer - hope you don't mind me borrowing your idea!)  
_


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